


Personal Policies

by nicotachi



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotachi/pseuds/nicotachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you think you know a person, it can leave behind a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Policies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rinforzando](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinforzando/gifts).



> If you've seen this fic on tumblr and ffnet, this is all by the same person.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Love Live! School Idol Project or its characters.

You did not think Maki to be _that_ sort of person.

Maki is _fearless_ , never failing to rise to the challenge--even when it means in opposition to you.

Maki is _neat_ , always looking effortlessly in order--and at times, coloring you with envy.

Maki is a _prude_.

And that is why--one fateful day, after one moment of absentmindedness--you are surprised to see her stare back at you like a deer in the headlights.

To see her hurriedly tug down her wrinkled shirt, strands of crimson red hair sticking up in odd places.

To see _your friend Maki_ push herself off of a girl you've never met, whom she had pinned to the couch of your shared living quarters.

The sight is almost unbelievable.

You are not quite sure what to think, if you were really given time to think at all.

When you come to, your mind just barely registers the strap of your bag nearly sliding down your arm and onto the floor. You tighten your grip on reflex, unwilling to let it fall so easily.

"I... S-sorry," you mumble as you backpedal through the doorway--careful to step over shoes you had never seen before. You abruptly turn around, giving neither occupant of the room a chance to speak.

Your heart thumps loudly in your ears as you exit the apartment, effectively drowning out the frantic calling of your name behind you. This saves you the trouble of burdening your footsteps, and you are surprised when you eventually find yourself moving at your usual walk. It is almost as if today were like any other: you had not forgotten your textbook, you had not gone back to get it, and you had not opened that dark red door to your apartment.

You almost falter at the fresh memory that resurfaces, but force your legs to keep moving, keep going.

You do not _care_ , is what you decide to tell yourself.

You refuse to break your pace.

 

* * *

 

Your only regret is how easily you backed down.

 

* * *

 

She sends you many texts later that day, but you choose to ignore them in favor of the lecturer standing before you. After all, you have a big exam the Tuesday after next, and this test requires nothing short of your best performance. You are not typically one to be so diligent in her studies--leave that to your _roommate_ \--but you decide that maybe, it wouldn't really hurt to _try_ once in a while. You may be the universe's next big idol, but that alone is not enough to maintain your scholarship.

You power your phone back on as you leave the lecture hall, alarmed at the amount of unread messages that flood your inbox. A sour expression crosses your face as you confirm that they are all from Maki. Your thumb hovers over the subject line of one-- _Please_ , it begins--and promptly moves to mark every checkbox for deletion.

Whatever she has to say to you, she can say to your face. It is simply the kind of relationship you have.

Sometimes, you wonder if it is all your relationship really is.

She is waiting for you when you return from school, seated alone on the couch with her elbows on her knees, chin atop folded hands. Her hair is neat and she is once again in order, but her clothes remain unchanged. All you can remember is the way that same shirt had been hiked up around her chest, unfamiliar hands covering what would have been exposed, and it makes your blood run cold. You take a step in the direction of your own bedroom, but she immediately rises to her feet and looks in your direction, begging for eye contact.

Grudgingly, you give it to her.

She swallows harshly, eyes darting wildly around the room before settling back onto your own.

"Nico.." She begins. There is an awkward pause, a blank space where she should have been referring to you with familiarity--and fondness, you used to think. But in its stead is an almost painful silence. "I really need to talk to you."

You wonder if she _knew_ her messages would go unanswered.

The thought brings you guilt and your reliable senior side nearly comes out of hiding. You want to take her hand and lead her to sit back down, hear her out, alleviate her worries. But one look at _that_ couch creates a heaviness in your chest that forces you to look away. You do not want to look at it, and you do not want to touch it.

You wonder if that is how you feel about her as well.

It takes a moment for you to remember that she is still waiting for a reply. You swallow harshly before straightening your shoulders, exhaling just the tiniest amount. Your head nearly spins when you lift your gaze from the ground but forcefully pin it to her own, and it takes almost everything you have to offer a hint of a smile.

"Geez, _Maki_ ," her name feels odd-- _stripped--_ in your mouth. "I was just a little surprised, okay? I mean, there were other ways you could've told me you had a," you inhale quickly, "--a _girlfriend_ , but what's done is done." Something like an apology begins to form on her lips, and you quickly cut her off. You need to go in for the mercy kill, although you cannot entirely convince yourself that it is for her sake. "Maki, it's _fine._ " Everything is _fine._ "I don't see why you're looking so sorry." You don't see why she's making this your business.

"Listen to me, Nico. She..." The words seem to die on Maki's tongue and she furrows her eyebrows, as though searching for what to say. You find this ridiculous; she had been given several hours to come up with a decent explanation.

"Maki." The third time you call her name feels a little less awkward, a little less heavy, and you can feel yourself begin to regain your confidence. Barely. You cross your arms loosely and let out a breath that is smoother, deeper. "It's okay. We're okay."

Maki still looks like she wants to say something, but she misses her chance when you finally retire to your bedroom.

You're tired, you realize once you close the door and collapse onto your bed. You are _exhausted_ , worn down to the core. A good night's sleep should do you well, but you admit that you feel more than apprehensive about the morning to come. It is not as though you think Maki would be so quick to invite _her_ back on the very same day you caught them together. But still, there is a lingering fear that when you wake up, _she_ will be there, sitting in your place at the kitchen table. These thoughts plague your mind, overriding your need to rest.

You are uneasy, you are afraid.

But you insist that you will be okay.

 

* * *

 

When you wake up, _she_ is not there.

And neither is Maki.

 

* * *

 

Your shared apartment is the midpoint between your respective universities. The mutual decision to live together had been purely of convenience and practicality, a logical decision.

Still, it had been a fun year. Your schedules so aligned that you could have breakfast together in the morning and dinner at night. You handled all the cooking of course, but not without appointing Maki as your sous chef. It had been a disaster at first, but you secretly had faith in her. She was quick to learn and sure enough, had become mostly competent after just a few months.

There was even a time when she had surprised you with breakfast she'd made herself. You remember asking what the occasion was, but she had simply just looked away, leaving the question unanswered. You decided not to push it.

The fresh strawberries and unburnt pancakes put a smile on your face, but it was Maki's sheer effort that nearly moved you to tears. You held them back though, too embarrassed to show her how much you cared.

She had insisted on making dinner that night as well, but you beat her to the punch, preparing her favorite pasta dish with extra tomato sauce, hoping your gratitude would come across. Afterwards, the two of you had decided to see a movie together in the living room. And although you still can't quite recall what it was you watched, you will always remember how warm it had felt when she fell asleep on your shoulder.

It was almost surprising, how well you had gotten along. It wasn't as though the two of you were on bad terms before, but compared to high school, your friendship had never been better.

But lately, she had been pulling away from you.

A week ago, you found out why.

Thankfully, you have not seen _her_ since the incident. However, you can only think about how the order of the apartment will change once _her_ presence becomes a common occurrence. When you and Maki had sat down to establish your personal housing rules _, bringing someone home for sex_ hadn't been part of the discussion. But there was an etiquette of sorts to this kind of thing, right? Like placing a sock on the doorknob? You shake your head quickly; you live in an _apartment_ , not a college dorm. Besides, it's not as if you barge into Maki's room unannounced. Not anymore, anyway.

But you highly doubt a sock would align with Maki's style. Perhaps a sticky note on the kitchen counter? All scrawled in her messy handwriting--fit for a doctor, you once teased:

_Hi, Nico. I would just like to let you know that currently, I am in my bedroom with--_

You immediately cease that train of thought, stomach sinking as you realize you have taken the joke too far.

You wonder when Maki and you began to differ. Neither of you had ever outwardly expressed interest in dating, let alone sex, but apparently that had changed for her sometime within the past few months.

You wish you could pinpoint when.

You wonder what is so different about _her_ , what Maki likes about _her_. You never learned of _her_ name, nor do you care to, preferring to refer to _her_ by pronoun only. Besides, it is not as if Maki will have any trouble identifying whom you are talking about, assuming that _she_ is the one she spends her time with these days. Leaving you to make sick jokes by yourself.

So as far as _you_ know, _this_ _girl_ does not have a name.

And neither does the feeling that has taken residence in your chest.

 

* * *

 

Traces of _her_ linger all around the apartment.

 

* * *

 

You decide to get a job.

Your tuition has already been covered by your scholarship, but you decide that a little extra pocket money independent of your personal savings couldn't hurt. Your mornings and late evenings are free now, so why not?

It has nothing to do with the empty apartment Maki has left behind.

Of course, she still technically lives there, but gone is the time you two once spent together. She is already out by the time you wake up, and in her room when you come home. A few weeks ago, she told you that--due to an increase in workload--she no longer had time for breakfast, and would take her dinner early on campus.

You simply smiled and lightly tapped her on the head, reminding her to take it easy.

You do not doubt that she really is always at school. After all, that is most likely where she met _her._ You imagine _she_ is whom _your friend Maki_ spends her lunches and dinners with these days.

You wonder how long Maki had been tired of home-cooked food.

The apartment feels noticeably bare when she is not around. While you have claimed the kitchen as your own, filling it to the brim with your favorite cooking equipment and dinner ware, there is barely anything to suggest that Maki is the other occupant of the apartment. There was the keyboard, but she had moved it into her room the day she told you she would be busy with school.

All that remained was the furniture she had bought for the apartment when the two of you first moved in. The end table in the hallway, a painting or two on the walls, the couch...

You like to sit at the kitchen table these days.

You wish your constant presence alone would burn away the evidence that _she_ had been there and _that_ act had taken place. But for as long as you refuse to enter the living area, your efforts are in vain. You almost want to hole up in the unchanged familiarity of your room, but the majority of your high school days have taught you better.

You're thankful to have been hired so easily.

You like your job. Despite its sophisticated exterior, the independent coffee shop you spend mornings and nights in is surprisingly warm and inviting. There is _one_ glaring con, but the pay is good and hours are decent. And best of all, it is always full of people.

The majority of them are relaxed, offering a smile when you serve them their drinks. You feed off the way their faces subtly light up and bask in their attention, fondly remembering how the spectators went wild for the high school idol you.

Your job feels like a quiet welcome back to the spotlight, comforting you in ways that home does not.

Could you still call it a home?

Tentatively, you wonder if you should move out after graduation.

 

* * *

 

Maki surprises you one day. She is sitting at the table with a book, across from your usual place. You cannot remember the last time you have seen her for more than two seconds, but you suppose that could be attributed to yourself as well; your schedule these days limits your time at home to just eating and sleeping. But it's okay, you like it that way.

You try not to act like you've seen a ghost when Maki suddenly closes her book and looks at you.

"Hi," she says quietly, offering a small smile.

"Hi..." You honestly don't know what to say. Why isn't she in her room?

"Did you just come back from school?"

"Ah, no..." You become aware of the keys in your hand and set them on the counter. "I had work."

"Work?" Maki's smile drops and she furrows her eyebrows in confusion. That's right, you had forgotten to tell her about your job of two weeks. But it's not like you had many chances to.

Still, she would've known if she actually paid attention once in a while.

"I work at a coffee shop." You're being too curt, but you can't help it.

"Oh! Could it be the one that just opened near my campus? It closes pretty late, right?"

Maki's words are like a slap back to reality, reminding you of the one thing you dislike about your job. Luckily, you haven't run into _her_ , but you are afraid that one day you _will_.

"Yeah." You have no idea why Maki has decided to break your mutual silence, but struggle to keep up a decent enough conversation anyway, as though she could disappear at any second. "I get a lot of kids from your school, actually. They make my job a lot more enjoyable, you know? They're very well-mannered." For the first time, you wonder if _she_ is like them as well; proper, polite, _pretty_. The thought makes your chest swell uncomfortably.

"I'll come visit you sometime," Maki says, almost too quickly.

You quirk an eyebrow at the sudden comment, but decide to think nothing of it.

"Yeah, sure. I have a shift tomorrow morning. Anyways, I should probably head to my--"

"Did you have dinner yet?"

"I--what?" Again, you are thrown off.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me." A month or so ago, the request would have been natural, almost unnecessary. But here you are, watching words tumble awkwardly out of Maki's mouth as she anticipates your answer.

A small voice in your head tells you to lie to her face, to say _Yes, I ate with a coworker earlier_. But when your eyes catch sight of her trembling hands, fiddling with the front cover of her book, your mind quietens at once.

It's been a while since you've seen her like this, but you somehow can't bring yourself to tease her. This must be how she is with her _girlfriend_.

"Alright, sure. Did you have anything in mind?" You ask, pushing back your sleeves and stepping towards a nearby cabinet. Still facing away from you, Maki shakes her head.

"I was thinking we could go out. It'll be my treat."

Dozens of questions bubble up in your throat as you turn to her, but you keep your mouth shut.

"Okay." You swallow. "But put on a coat first. I don't want to feel guilty when you get sick."

You hear a small laugh as Maki heads into her room. It is genuine, something you have not heard in weeks.

For just a moment, the past two months never happened.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the restaurant is filled with silence. It is not what you consider comfortable, although you're not sure if you can speak for Maki. She walks slightly ahead of you, leading the way.

You linger behind, making no move to catch up to her. Besides, you do not expect that she'd stay by your side.

The streets are unnaturally quiet at this time of night, reminding you of tomorrow's packed schedule. And although the pretty city lights still remain, you keep your eyes focused on Maki's pristine footwear. Eventually, they slow down to a stop and you follow suit, coming face to face with a familiar old diner.

Ah. This used to be your favorite spot.

Maki used to bring you here all the time, whenever she deemed you too tired to handle the stove. It had been a good few months since your last visit, but you're still not sure why you expected she bring you anywhere else. You assumed she had forgotten.

Business is slow, and in just a few minutes, the two of you are seated in your usual corner booth. It is when the waitress leaves to bring your waters that you decide to break the silence.

"So..." You begin. Her head jerks up, as though she knows what you are about to say. You don't know what to say. "Didn't have dinner at school today?"

"Yeah," she says, tilting her menu up to partially hide her face, eyes cast downward. Under any other circumstance, you would have found this endearing. But as of this moment, you were trying to figure out the source of her evasiveness, and why it was starting to grate on your nerves...

_Oh._

"Don't tell me... You got in a fight with your _girlfriend_? And you need me to keep you company?" You plaster a smirk onto your face, hoping it will conceal the bitterness in your voice.

Maki's eyes widen briefly before narrowing, laying her menu flat against the table. When her eyes meet yours, you see sparks of irritation, but mostly determination.

"We're not dating," she says quickly, a sense of finality lingering in the air. The words feel firm yet worn, almost as if she had rehearsed them. You are taken aback by the resolution in her voice, and it makes you uncomfortable.

"Then what was that all about? A fling? Are you friends with benefits or something? I never took you for that kind of person, _Maki_." You can feel your chest tighten despite the weak laugh that tumbles out of your mouth. Your feeble attempt to lighten the mood comes off as more than serious, and the way you bite your words makes the both of you flinch. Maki gathers herself quickly.

"Look, school has been... _stressful_. I needed to blow off some steam and the feeling was mutual for her. We just fooled around a _little_ , but--"

"Why the _fuck_ are you telling me all of this?" You cut her off despite your best efforts. Maki has never been polite in the way of speaking, but her speech has never sounded so _crude_. The heavy feeling that had once plagued your chest moves to your stomach and you want to throw up. You want to change the subject, brush her off, but you know she is fully expecting a serious response this time. You inhale quickly, almost painfully. "I already told you it was _fine._ I already told you it was _okay._ Why do you keep bringing this up?" You forcefully glue your eyes to the table, beginning to feel nauseous at the sight of such words leaving her mouth.

"Because they're two completely different things, Nico." Your efforts to stay calm begin to wane. Her voice is so infuriatingly steady that it makes you want to slap her. "I need you to know that--"

"I don't want to discuss this. Why are we discussing this?" You finally snap. It's almost as if she invited you out to pull this kind of reaction, to feed off all the anger that had been festering inside of you...

"Holy _shit_ ," you whisper. "Is this why you invited me out today? _All_ so you could tell me that your _girlfriend_ is just your _fuckbuddy_?"

"I tried to tell you the day you saw us. We didn't even--"

You've been pushed to your limit. Her words are cut short when you slam a hand on the table, rising to your feet.

"Nico, wait!"

You're already out the door and across the street by the time you register her words. Not long after, frantic footfalls begin to sound from behind you. You scowl, whipping around to confront them.

"Nico..." Maki manages to breathe out before trailing off, panting heavily.

You were fully meaning to dismiss her, but the sight of her all doubled over--struggling--tugs at your heartstrings. Your anger is quickly placed with worry and in a fleeting act of mercy, you allow her to continue.

But she doesn't. She only continues to stare at you--waiting.

And it is then that you realize there is something Maki _wants_ from you, although you do not know _what_. You don't _want_ to know what. The realization is enough to make you clench your fists and grit your teeth, anger surging back. Of _course_ she wants something from you. That's all you've been doing lately: giving, giving, _giving_.

Space, time, _support._ Everything a _friend_ could possibly give.

And the one thing you weren't willing to part with, she _stole_.

"What do you _want_ from me, Maki?" You can't remember the last time you raised your voice at her. "What more could you possibly _want_?"

"Maybe I wanted you to actually _hear_ what I had to say! Maybe I wanted you to _care_ a little!"

The last part of her outburst is not something she had meant for you to hear, judging by the way she quickly clamps her hands over her mouth. But it is too late; the damage has been done and the accusation swirls angrily in your chest. "I'm sorry, no... I meant--"

"You think I didn't _care_?" You begin quietly. She cowers back, regret written all over her face. "You think I didn't _care_ when you suddenly decided to stop talking to me? You think I _enjoyed_ finding out you were fucking some _girl_ in the rudest way possible?" Your voice pounds loudly in your head, and you are certain your chest is going to explode if you don't back down soon. You turn away from her, continuing up the street.

"Don't follow me!" You order when you realize she is still running after you.

"Nico, I'm sorry--I--" You think you hear a sob but continue on, refusing to turn around.

"I won't be home tonight. Maybe you can invite your--oh, sorry-- _friend_ over," you say, knowing the sheer volume will reach her ears.

Your words are effective. The extra footsteps halt, but there is a hint of disappointment in the overwhelming relief you feel.

Still, you keep walking.

You force your legs to keep moving, keep going.

Onward, onward, onward.

You will break your pace for _no one._

 

* * *

 

Maki doesn't text or call once. Just as you had expected.

That's okay. From the privacy of your sleeping quarters, you can finally admit it.

You're _not_ okay. And you haven't been, not for a long time.

Of several things you have always been certain:

One, you are _alone_.

Two, you are _jealous_.

Three, you're in love with _your friend Maki_.

And four, your heart is breaking.

 

* * *

 

It is five in the morning when you begin your reluctant trek back to your apartment. You're not a child; you knew you could never hide forever. In your hand is a plastic bag full of sandwiches that you had purchased from the net cafe you took refuge in. They had meant to be your breakfast, but you decided that you needed an empty stomach for the journey back home. Admittedly, your logic is ridiculous, but you have become hesitant to return when Maki is sleeping, unsuspecting of your presence. Before she can clear out what she does not want you to find.

Last time, you saw unfamiliar shoes and an unfamiliar face.

Your jaw tightens as you rest your hand on the doorknob, reluctant to twist.

 _Enough_ , rings out a voice in your head. _Cut the bullshit already, we've already seen the worst._

With firmer resolve, you turn the doorknob.

...And realize it had opened without use of your key.

Your thoughts run wild as your heart drops through your chest. There are no shoes at the door, but that is because _she_ must have already left with them, too hurried to wake up Maki and have her lock up after _her_.

You do not bother to lighten your movements as you retire to your room, knowing she is most likely out cold in bed.

But you do come to a full stop at a sight you hadn't expected to see.

Maki is asleep at the kitchen table. One arm cradling her head, the other outstretched with her phone in hand. With a slow shift of your eyes, you spot the keys you had left behind on the counter. Everything begins to click into place.

You're such an idiot. You laugh, but this time in relief. Tears begin to pool in the corners of your eyes.

Of course you had assumed the worst. You never considered _your friend Maki_ would ever leave the door open for _you_.

You take a step closer to observe her sleeping face and messy countenance. Her disheveled clothes remind you of the worn shoes you'd seen in the hallway. She must have been up all night, running all over in search of you.

"You're so dramatic." Your voice is barely above a whisper, intending to let her sleep. You drape a blanket from your room over her shoulders and step back to lightly tap her forehead. "I bet you hoped I would find you like this, huh?"

A quick glance at your phone reminds you that despite last night's events, you still have work and then school after. Quickly gathering your things, you grab a single sandwich and head out the door. But not before placing the rest on the table where she can see them.

Maybe, if she is still here when you return, you can put the kitchen to use once again for dinner. It will be just like old times.

She may not feel the same.

Admittedly, it hurts, but you're just glad to have your friend back.

 

* * *

 

Work is slow.

The minutes drag on and you prop your cheek on an open hand, staring off into space. You quietly count down the hours until you arrive home and see her. How should you act?

Truthfully, you want to be angry with Maki. Downright _livid_. There is a large list of transgressions. She had ignored you for however many months in favor of her _friend,_ and during the single moment you spent together, had insisted that person be the main topic of discussion for reasons still unknown.

Still, she can't be held accountable for the feelings you harbor for her. Those unnecessary, _inconvenient_ feelings are none of her business, nor do you expect them to be. You can't help how you feel, but neither can she.

What's important is that this morning, you were reminded that she still cares for you in the same way she always has.

And as long as you are not home when her _friend_ is around, you should be fine.

Maybe.

A sudden movement in your direction grabs your attention and you spot one of the room's few occupants, a young man from Maki's university, gesturing to his empty cup. You lean back from the counter and brush off your apron. Putting on a warm smile, you grab a coffee pot and make a beeline for his table.

You smoothly fill his drink, careful to not spill a drop. You shoot him another smile as you stand back up, but his voice halts you from returning to your place at the counter.

"Excuse me, Miss..." He glances at your nametag, where your last name is written.

"You can call me Nico," you say, smiling warmly. You always offered your first name to anyone who asked. It helped that the people who frequented this place were cute and friendly, too.

"Hi, Nico," he says shyly before appearing to regain confidence. He straightens up in his seat before producing a small slip of paper from his pocket. "I've been coming here pretty often in the past few weeks, and--"

"I know," you grin.

"Really?" He looks pleasantly astonished. Your smile grows wider, happy that he seems impressed with your excellent customer service.

"Yup! You're what I call a regular. You come here at least three times a week, and it's always in the morning." You count off the points on your fingers as he stares at you in awe. "Right before classes at the nearby medical university, right? I hear your midterms are soon. Good luck with that, by the way."

You smirk at him with your hands on your hips, awaiting your mini applause. Customers _loved_ when you remembered random details about them, if your heavy tip jar was anything to go by.

He continues to stare at you in silence, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. Well, that tended to happen sometimes. Suddenly remembering the paper in his hands, he stands until he is towering above you and holds it out for you to take.

Oh. You've never had to deal with _this_ before. Your face begins to grow hot.

"That's my number. I was wondering if maybe, we could go out for coffee--I mean, not here of course. Unless you wanted to? Or maybe dinner? Uh..." Before you can get a word in, he pushes the paper into your hands and hurries past you, towards the exit. "I-I'm late to class. But hopefully I'll hear from you soon if you're interested!"

You pat at your heated cheeks, grumbling at your own embarrassment. You hope he had noticed that you didn't bother to learn his name.

"This isn't a tip," you frown, looking at the crumpled piece of paper in your hands.

"Oh, hey, Nishikino!" You hear him say from behind you. "I'll be going on ahead."

Your head whips around. He is already out the door, and...

Maki is standing right in front of you.

You quickly pocket the paper. Damn, you didn't expect to see her again so soon. And how long had she been there?

"Hi," she greets with uncertainty.

"Hi," you echo back with just as much confidence. "You.. know that guy?" Honestly, you're not even sure what to say. The last time you saw Maki, you were yelling about some _girl._ You're not sure if talking about some random boy who frequents your work is any better.

"He's my project partner," Maki answers back, jaw tight. She seems to realize this and relaxes it, sighing. "Anyways, um..." She trails off, glancing at your apron. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be home early today, so..."

"We can have dinner together, if that's what you're asking," you say, trying to fight a smile. Honestly, that was what you had hoped for.

"Yeah. Anyways, I'll be heading to class now. See you tonight." She frowns slightly and heads off before you can tell her goodbye.

She's probably still feeling guilty, you realize.

Well, it's no matter. When you see her, you're going to tell her that everything is okay.

And for once, it will be the honest truth.

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere is _odd._

Maki fidgets uncomfortably, smiling awkwardly whenever you happen to catch her eye. You don't quite know what she's feeling. You do not think she is angry with you, but decide to test the waters and attempt a small conversation.

"So, a boy approached me at work today."

"My project partner, yes, I saw." You think it's a little odd that Maki doesn't just properly refer to him by name already. Her smile wavers as she stabs at her plate with a little more force than necessary.

"Oh, right. Anyways, how do you think I should go about this?" You pull the slip of paper out of your pocket and place it on the table. Maki doesn't so much as give it a glance, continuing to look down at her food.

"Why are you asking me this?" She snaps. Suddenly, her eyes widen and her face turns apologetic. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She sighs. "Maybe you could give him a shot? Although I've never seen you... interested in anyone before. It could be good for you?"

"Oh, no," you say, waving your hands. "I just was wondering how you think I should reject him. Do I call him? Text him? Ignore him? Oh, but he goes to my work--"

"Reject him? I thought you were interested?" Maki looks genuinely confused.

You pause. It had never occurred to you that Maki would actually think you were _interested_ in him, and the thought makes you uncomfortable. You don't want her to get the wrong idea.

"I'm not interested," you say quickly. "It doesn't matter that he's been eyeing me for who knows how long. I liked the attention, but that's it. Plus, I'd never be interested in going out with someone for the hell of it, let alone someone I barely know."

"Ah... oh." Maki's looking down at her plate again, hair obscuring her eyes. "I see. Just curious, but why are you telling me all of this?" Her voice grows unnaturally quiet for conversation over dinner.

"Because it's something I just want you to know. We're friends, aren't we?" You say, frowning. You hope you don't have to elaborate. Admittedly, it's a fruitless effort on your part, but you want to be as honest with her as you possibly can.

"Yes, we're friends." The words come out choked, and you realize Maki is crying, tears spilling onto the table. You hop out of your seat and rush to her end of the table, grabbing her hands.

"Maki, what's wrong?" You ask, panicked.

"You do it so easily..." She says, releasing your hands to mop at both eyes. "You're so honest and upfront when it matters. I don't dislike that about you... In fact, I should have been completely honest from the start. It's my fault everything turned out this way."

"Maki, if you're talking about last night, it's okay. I forgive--"

"No!" She yells, standing up. "I messed up everything. I ruined _everything_."

You gently reach for her hands again, feeling little to no resistance when you lead her to sit on the couch. " _What's_ ruined?" You ask patiently. You feel tempted to reiterate that you no longer hold bitter feelings towards her, but know that it will only agitate her further.

"You think I'm..." She trails off, eyebrows furrowing and lip quivering. "Can I tell you everything, from the start? About her?"

You hesitate at the one subject you weren't ready to revisit. You suddenly become aware of the couch you're currently sitting on, but you hold yourself back from standing up as though you've been burned. A large part of you wants to leave, to retreat to your room, but another part tells you that this is important to Maki.

You want to be there for your friend.

"Of course you can," you say, hoping your hesitance doesn't come across. "And I won't say anything until you're done."

Maki wipes at her eyes a final time before taking a deep breath. "A few months ago, a classmate started to approach me more. It turns out she was interested, but I wasn't. I turned her down, even though we were involved in several projects together. And then school became _so much,_ you know? We were both feeling overworked, and then she... She proposed an arrangement where I wouldn't have to be considerate of her feelings, because there wouldn't be any in what we'd be doing. And I... I agreed to it."

She glances down at the cushions, as though suddenly realizing where she is. You tense. "And then you came home, unexpectedly." You open your mouth, but she continues talking, as though sensing you would interrupt her. "And I was really ashamed, you know? Not just the getting-caught part, but... Anyways, I was too afraid to tell you what we really were. You thought it was stupid when I said it last night, right? 'Oh no, she's just my fuckbuddy.' That's what I thought too. I couldn't have possibly told you that, at least not back then. But I probably should have...

"I was so ashamed, I broke it off that day, as soon as you left. School really did get busy after that, and I still saw her a lot because of our projects, but that didn't matter to me. We were over, whether she liked it or not. But I was too afraid, too ashamed to see _you_... So I thought putting some space between us would be for the best. But it was a stupid decision, because I ended up hurting you the most." She breaks out into a quiet sob again, covering her eyes instead of wiping them. You don't like the sight. You carefully pull her hand away from her face and, on impulse, kiss her on the forehead.

"Idiot," you say softly, brushing her tears away with your thumbs. "You look like you're hurting the most."

Maki lets you touch her, appearing to contemplate something in silence. She speaks up. "There's one more thing I'm not telling you."

You smile, bringing one of her hands up to your lips. "You can tell me."

She brings her hands back into her lap, folding them carefully.

"You and I--I was happy when we became close. When I told our friends we’d be moving in together, they all joked that we'd be at each other's throats if we had to live in such close quarters, but I began looking forward to it. Looking forward to seeing you all the time. Every day was fun and exciting and I got to come home to _you._ But I was never sure just how much of what I felt was mutual. We were close, but you were always looking and moving forward. Whenever we talked about the future, you never mentioned wanting to marry or start a family or even settle down. I wouldn't have dreamed of holding you back, tying you down, using you the way I later used her.

"And I think, that was when I realized how much I loved you. That I was probably in love with you. And that if I really loved you, I would be happy with what we already had. Even though I messed it up in the end…"

Maki lifts her head to look at you, gauge your reaction--and lets out a gasp at the sight of hot tears running down your face.

"Ah!" She runs her fingers across your cheeks, wiping away your tears just as you had done for her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologizes over and over again.

"Do you still love me?" You ask tentatively. Maki's hands still on your cheeks. She looks away briefly before locking eyes with you.

"I do."

You smile through your tears, placing a hand on one of hers to keep it in place. "Good, because I do too."

You hear a sharp intake of breath. You're not surprised when the hand under yours slides to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. You oblige, closing your eyes and leaning forward.

She meets you halfway in what goes down as your first kiss. Her lips press against yours softly, as though unsure if you'll break under her touch. It's not enough. You hook an arm across her shoulders and lean down, bringing her with you, nestling your body underneath hers.

She raises herself on her elbows to smile down at you. "Thank you for loving such an idiot," she whispers almost reverently, leaning forward to kiss your cheeks. You pout, grabbing both sides of her face and bringing her mouth back to yours. You feel her laugh, but she doesn't hesitate to indulge you when you part your lips slightly, slipping her tongue past them.

You love the feeling of her hair under your fingertips and lightly rub her scalp, earning a content sigh. You slide your hands down to her nape, along her back, to the hem of her shirt. Slipping your hands under it, you roam her bare sides, enjoying the shiver that comes with it. But before you can reach your destination, she grabs your wrists and you still them immediately.

You panic. "I'm sorry, did I--"

"No, you did fine," Maki says, flushing. "I just thought that, it would be nice if we took it slow. I-I want to take my time with you." Embarrassed, she hides her face in the crook of your neck.

Your blush matches hers, but her earnest words make your heart swell. You nestle one hand in her hair and rest the other in between her shoulder blades, stroking lightly. Gradually, the breathing against your neck evens out. "Of course, we have all the time in the world. Just don't keep a girl waiting forever," you wink, even though she can't see it. Your voice lowers. "But I think I could've waited forever."

You feel Maki twitch and she raises herself up again, but this time to pull at your cheeks. She ignores your yelps of pain. "Don't say such stupid things. I'd never want you to slow down or wait for me." She smiles sweetly. "If I want to stay by your side, then I'll just have to catch up."

Your blush comes back full force and you push forward, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

 _Your friend Maki_ loves you back.

Before she can return it, you pull away, turning her onto her side and tossing an arm around her waist. You tighten your grip, mumbling your words into her skin.

"And when that happens, I'm never letting you go."


End file.
